Bubblegum Club

Tag: apartheid

  • Abri de Swardt’s Ridder Thirst // Collaging Historiographies of Queer Youth

    Abri de Swardt’s Ridder Thirst // Collaging Historiographies of Queer Youth

    An anonymity of objects, each with an individual history. Tussled and turned. Transformed by the rhythm of a pulsing river. Caked in the sand of the bank. Reaching the shores of the sea, washed up and waiting. Tentatively collected and contemplated. Repurposed. Filled up in phallic form. Residue. Residual waste reimagined.

    Abri de Swardt’s latest solo exhibition at Pool, Ridder Thirst, presents a temporal slice of a queer historiography rooted within the context of Stellenbosch and its university. He describes how this form of research and making integrates histories that are, “closer to the skin and intimacy…introducing a body that is otherwise occluded from that site.” This multi-media body of work spans the complexities of youth and questions of collective agency. Through his practice, Abri investigates notions of disassociation, disidentification and desire as political positions.

    The beginning of this project can be traced back five years to Abri’s investigation into how the Stellenbosch Visual Art Department started in 1964. When founded, the department was intended to be rooted in Eurocentrism and an extension of the Western canon through an emulation of the Bauhaus. During this research Abri stumbled across the work of Alice Mertens, who was appointed as the first lecturer in photography. Most well known for her ethnographic photo-book African Elegance (1973), she also published a book, Stellenbosch (1966, republished and expanded 1979), which captured couples in leisure on the banks of the Eerste River in Stellenbosch. As a document of the town under Apartheid, Abri was interested in the depictions of the students in nature, and the representation of heterosexual relationships mimicking the ‘neutrality’ of photography. In Mertens’ photographs, linkages can be made between white entitlement over land in relation to student bodies.

    His film, Ridder Thirst (2015-2018) starts in a darkroom depicting one of Abri’s former lecturers, Hentie van der Merwe, who was a key figure in 1990’s South African queer visuality. He appears to be developing and solarizing Mertens’ images. The photographic matter slowly starts to seep into the paper. Through the narration of the scene, the audience is introduced to The Shadow Prince – a fictionalized figure driving the narrative, said to have escaped from a camera and into reality. “A lot of my work deals with the limits of photography and how collage always treats photographic material as sculptural material.” The process of his work draws attention to the physicality of the photograph. Digital collage features in the film as motion-tracked media floats down the river in the form of oak leaves, stock embelms reminiscent of camouflage and university branding.

    Settler colonial whiteness is positioned at the intersection between the sea and the river – the site at which people historically landed on the beach. The whole narrative of the film is based on rolling-up the First River and burying it in the mountain- highlighting geographic and historical tensions. The name of the film and exhibition Ridder Thirst was formulated through a combination of Afrikaans and English. Ridder is Afrikaans for ‘knight’ whereas thirst evokes notions of desire (being thirsty), while also, in an onomatopoeic play on ‘river first’, referencing the river which is central to the project. Abri describes how the combination of words articulates a medieval desire for a heroic figure something that he says is displaced and “unfulfilled in the film.”

    Eerste Waterval (2018) is a piece that explores the origin of the river. An assortment of objects was carefully collected at the mouth of the river and inserted into an elongated clear plastic bag, a condom of sorts. “It becomes the actual trace of the run of the river.”Organic matter and plastic merges from Stellenbosch and Macassar, where the mouth of the river lies – geographically adjacent but “racially and economically disparate spaces.” Abri described how materials would lose their shape and become entwined with other objects from the river bed. “It’s really sculpted by the river.” He also mentioned how “garbage is also a kind of collaging of usage and time” which relates to other aspects of his work that draw from expanded notions of archeology and mapping.

    The double 12” vinyl record Ridder Thirst LP (2016 -18) is another integral element of the exhibition. Abri wanted to generate a platform that included a spectrum of voices which thematically responded to the concepts in his work. The sonic forum also stemmed from a series of reading events that took place in Johannesburg and Cape Town – prefacing and speaking to the historical ruptures of the Fallist Movements. “I invited other people who were with me at Stellenbosch at the time,who were also working with writing and voice in their practice” Abri was interested in creating a broader conversation and shifting the focus to the shared,“closeness of people listening to each other” in various modes of address. The work includes tracks by, Stephané E. Conradie, Metodeen Tegniek, Athi Mongezeleli Joja, Pierre Fouché, Khanyisile Mbongwa, Rachel Collet, Alida Eloff and Abri de Swardt. There will be a listening event playing the 62 minutes of the record next month as part of.the exhibition’s public programming. Ridder Thirst runs until the 17th of June at POOL in New Doornfontein.

  • ‘Trauma & Identity’ Group Exhibition at Gallery One11 by the NJE Collective

    ‘Trauma & Identity’ Group Exhibition at Gallery One11 by the NJE Collective

    The NJE Collective‘s latest group exhibition opened at Gallery One11 last night and has as its focus its Womxn contributors and the themes intrinsic in their practice incited by the current realities in Namibia on a political, socio-economic and cultural level.

    In discussion with a member of the group, Jo Rogge, she expresses that ‘Trauma & Identity’ relates to individual and collective realities that Namibian citizens are faced with in a time when Namibia suffers under immense poverty, rife corruption, gender violence, unemployment and the depletion of national resources amongst other factors.  Jo adds that, “…the queer space while dynamic, remains a vulnerable target for random hate-speech and physical assault.”

    The participating artists for the exhibition include Jo Rogge, Masiyaleti Mbewe, Tuli Mekondjo, Silke Berens, Tangeni Kauzuu and Hildegard Titus. The artists engage in equivocal concerns founded on personal as well as political experiences. The experiences addressed include gender and cultural identity, nationhood, belonging and recognition. Jo explains, “This exhibition encapsulates the diversity and complexity of individual and collective narratives as witnessed through the lens of each artist, drawing on either historical or current narratives.” Artworks that will be featured will include photographs, paintings, installation, and mixed media works.

    The relevance of this discourse within a South African gallery space is elaborated on by Jo as, “Namibia’s history is closely aligned with that of SA with the SADF having fought a bloody war against SWAPO on its northern borders from 1966 until prior to Independence in 1990. The post-colonial space is darkened with the lingering shadows of the apartheid system and racism. Unlike South Africa, Namibia has never seen the need for a process of reconciliation and there is a lot of unresolved trauma and pain in the national consciousness.”

    ‘Onde ku hole’, oil on canvas, 2018 by Jo Rogge

    NJE Collective, formerly known as SoNamibia, decided to change their collective name in order to embrace multilocality as a means to evade issues concerning nationality that is regarded as patriarchal and exclusive.

    Members of NJE Collective are either invited to take part in a specific exhibition or approach the collective themselves to become members of the group. The collective’s fluid membership means that members remain active by choice. Currently, the collective has eight practicing members.

    * NJE functions under its own management, towards shared goals. It is also a space for mentoring, peer support and sharing resources. Meetings take place individually as well as in a group format in order to discuss topics of common interest, creative practice, and the potential for collaboration.

    Come and support the work of these Womxn artists whose show will run at Gallery One11 until the 28th April 2018.

    ‘Collateral Damage’, oil on canvas, 2018 by Silke Berens
  • Internet Censorship // Undermining the democratization of information

    Internet Censorship // Undermining the democratization of information

    “To the past, or to the future. To an age when thought is free. From the Age of Big Brother, from the Age of the Thought Police, from a dead man – greetings!”

    ― George Orwell, 1984

    The modern digital technology of the internet has been an integral element in the democratization of knowledge – eliminating barriers of access, resulting in the proliferation of new ideas beyond borders. The speed at which content and information can be shared is vastly more instantaneous than ever before. Social media has in many ways provided platforms for those previously voiceless and disenfranchised.

    The controversial Films and Publications Amendment Bill, also known as the “Internet Censorship Bill”, was passed by the National Assembly earlier this month. The votes stood at 189 in favour, 35 against, with no abstentions. Its official mandate is to protect children from being exposed to disturbing or harmful media content and curb hate speech. However, the extent of its jurisdiction appears to reach beyond that, including into your smartphone.

    Those opposing the Bill have voiced concerns over the vague and broad terminology used in the piece of legislature. They argue that it is an infringement on article 16 of the constitution, which outlines freedom of expression as, “a. freedom of the press and other media; freedom to receive or impart information or ideas; freedom of artistic creativity; and academic freedom and freedom of scientific research.”

    The Film and Publication Board (FPB) would also be able to intervene in the jurisdiction of the Independent Communications Authority of South Africa (ICASA). Initial critics of the Bill included MultiChoice, eNCA, eTV, Right2Know, Media Monitoring Africa, the SOS Coalition, the South African National Editors Forum, the National Association of Broadcasters, Google and the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) as it will undoubtably have lasting effects on the industry.

    The Bill also gives provisions to the FPB to block online content in South Africa. This is extended to “user-generated content” – including media posted to Facebook, Twitter, and other social media services used by individuals. Essentially allowing the government to monitor and restrict your social media, defining what sanctioned content may be shared and disseminated.

    South Africa has a long and dark history with censorship. During Apartheid the government attempted to contain media – aligning it to the political ideology. The Publications Act of 1974 provided the Nationalist party the power to censor movies, plays, books, and other entertainment – framing the perception of ideas to uphold white supremacy and systemic racism.

    Media creates a space in which certain views, opinions and notions of representations are normalized. This becomes problematic when only a singular narrative is being presented as ‘true’ without any further contestation or room for debate. In these instances, subjective information is used to influence public opinion as a means to promote a particular agenda. Restrictions on free speech hamper critical thinking and an engagement with a varied spectrum of opinions. It is also worth asking who censorship protects and what the costs of defying it will be.

  • Tell Freedom. 15 South African artists

    Kunsthal KAdE in the Netherlands will host a new exhibition titled Tell Freedom. 15 South African artists. The 15 artists featured engage with South Africa’s history of racial violence, racial capitalism, inequalities and injustice. However, there is a sense of hope for the future that comes across in their work; a realistic hope that comes from being deeply embedded in a layered South African socio-political context. Their work interrogates differing levels of social, political and economic injustices rooted in the colonial era and the period of apartheid. Through this contextualized engagement with differing levels grown from South Africa’s history, they attempt to understand their own position in the fluid and solidified aspects of the country’s social fabric. This also allows the artists to create an imaginary of South Africa’s future which is expressed through visual vernaculars.

    ‘Verraaier – Devil’s Peak’ 2017 by Francois Knoetze

    Fine artist, culture consultant and curator Nkule Mabaso as well as art historian, writer and critic Manon Braat are the curators for this exhibition. The exhibition’s curatorial foundation is based on a specific question: is it possible to envisage a future based on principles of humanity and equality, rather than on exclusion and division? The objective for this exhibition and associated event is to contribute towards conversations and theoretical engagements on inequality to achieve a more inclusive society in South Africa and the Netherlands.

    ‘The Pied Piper’ 2013 by Lebohang Kganye

    The artists included in the exhibition are Bronwyn Katz, Neo Matloga, Donna Kukama, Haroon Gunn-Salie, Nolan Oswald Dennis, Lerato Shadi, Madeyoulook, Buhlebezwe Siwani, Lebohang Kganye, Ashley Walters, Francois Knoetze, Mawande Ka Zenzile, Kemang Wa Lehulere, Dineo Seshee Bopape and Sabelo Mlangeni.

    The exhibition will be from 27 January – 6 May 2018.

    ‘Batsho bancama’ 2017 by Buhlebezwe Siwani
    ‘Orkaan Kwaatjie’ 2017 by Bronwyn Katz
    ‘The messengers or The knife eats at home’ 2016 by Kemang Wa Lehulere

  • Denise Bertschi // State Fiction and the Fallacy of Neutrality

    Stacks of time-stained pages – riffled and rummaged through. Transactions marked only by an undiscovered paper trail. Complicit in ink. Characters emerge from oblique connections, layered in relations as narratives spill forth as the archive bears its secrets.

    Denise Bertschi engages with a research-centric art practice. Often her extensive research process is initially sparked by a specific geographical location as well as the role of ‘neutral’ Switzerland in other countries. The concept of neutrality seems to still be enshrined as part of Swiss identity – it is often perceived as being impartial and without position. However, there is a deeply political underlying positionality within neutrality.

    In her project, State Fiction, Denise explores and investigates the influence of Switzerland and how aspects of neutrality manifest in reality. “This neutral position is like a fictional thought, I’m interested in that discrepancy”. Through her work she has witnessed how often time neutrality acts as an agent and an active force, sometimes working covertly. Bertschi probes these dynamic relationships – tracing political situations through historical research.

    Integral to her practice is the presence of the archive. In the traditional sense, the archive is a collection of artifacts and documents that an individual deemed important enough to preserve. However, Bertschi approaches this system more widely, including less formal research elements. On this residency she has worked with both the National Archives of South Africa in Pretoria and the National Library in Cape Town. State Fiction hones in on Switzerland’s involvement in South Africa during the Apartheid Era. The State did not participate in the global sanctions against South Africa. Nevertheless Swiss banks were very active at the time and protected by the government – many of which put loans into government institutions like Eskom to support the Apartheid state.

    “There is a long tradition of Switzerland buying Johannesburg gold.” Part of expanding the archive has included engaging with space on a physical level like wandering through the city’s CBD. “I was interested in where these offices were, the physical presence for example of UBS, the Union Bank of Switzerland.” She traced the historical addresses, looking to see how they exist in the contemporary moment. “Most of them were in the mining district in town. The office of one of the first UBS agents is now a multi-storey parking lot of Anglo American.” Another building where another former agent of the gold trade was located, the ‚Precious Metals Development LTD‘  is now, “completely hijacked. I just look at this architecture which becomes the pretext to tell my story.” These buildings become a scaffolding for the semi-visible narratives and transactions that took place.

    As Bertschi sifted through archival material, it became apparent that often these political relationships were constructed under the hand of one man or agent of a bank. “And all of a sudden when I’m in the archive, the story becomes very lively and quite personal. I like to break these big topics down to a person and see, who was this man – where did he live?” Working with characters – a narrative comes to life. Often working under the guise of diplomacy, these agents take on the role of mediators. Their complex stories are gradually illuminated though letters, documents and other correspondent – illustrative of how one person’s agenda can affect policy.

    Bertschi believes that, “when you have a broad and experimental approach to the archive then things will appear to you in the right time.” Through her research she has unearthed various narratives and truths. “I have this information now and maybe people haven’t looked at this for years.” As an investigative art-practitioner she also interrogates her own position and power as a custodian of information. “What is my responsibility with this now?” Misconceptions around history and historical narratives is that there never is just one singular overarching story. “It’s not one clear story, it’s many minor stories.”

    “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

    • Desmond Tutu

     

     

  • Outfitters: Johannesburg’s Mens-Fashion Museums 

    In Johannesburg the “outfitters” is like the Spaza Shop. A culturally significant institution in which the dynamics of the cities sub-culture intersect, a space where history, politics and culture collide.

    “Outfitters” is the general term, for mens boutiques, particularly those that were shaped by South Africa’s socio-political environment in the 20th century. The term outfitters derives from the “Tailoring and Outfitters licence”, which was at the time a legal requirement for anyone providing tailoring or clothing retail services. Like the city itself, the story of the outfitters in Johannesburg began on the mines. Indian immigrants, some of whom had been indentured labourers (others migrants) established tailoring businesses, which catered to Johannesburg’s growing black labour force. In those days, the early part of the 20th century, tailors either repaired clothing or produced made to measure pieces (usually trousers) for their clients.

    It was only in the 1930’s that the current manifestation of the outfitters first emerged in Johannesburg. In 1931 Ismael Dajee opened City Warehouse, which was a “general dealer” at the time but would later become the mens outfitters known as City Hall. In 1936 Mr R Chiba opened R Chiba Tailoring and Outfitters on the corner of Diagonal and Market streets. The store was still predominantly a tailoring business, but Chiba also began developing the business into an outlet for ready to wear products. His store began selling Arrow shirts, C2C Khaki (Cape to Cairo khaki), 3X Denim and imported shoe brands: Jarman, Stacey Adam, Crocket & Jones, Johnston and Murphy, Freeman, Hardy & Willis.

    Encouraged by the Johannesburg-black-labour-force’s ever growing fascination with, and thirst for fashion (American fashion in particular) the “tailors and outfitters” model spread across Johannesburg’s CBD. Most of the brands stocked in the outfitters were imported from the United States of America, a characteristic that would define both the outfitting business and Johannesburg’s sub-cultural aesthetic. John Hyslop, in his essay titled “Ghandi, Mandela and the African modern” mentions American stars, Duke Ellington and Glen Miller as characters on which Johannesburg based bands modelled themselves. He also states “the clothing and cars that Mandela and fashionable black youth aspired to were those in Hollywood movies”. Mr Abdullah Dajee, grandson of Ismael Dajee (founder of City Hall) also suggests that up until the early 1980’s black mens fashion in Johannesburg was mainly, if not exclusively influenced by black America. According to Dajee, the reason for this was South Africa’s political isolation, which meant that South Africa received limited media from the rest of the world and the media that did reach the country was mainly British and American. It was Black American culture though that captured black Johannesburg’s imagination, which is an indication that there were other reasons for the connection, one of those reasons being politics. Hyslop explains, “For the members of the BMSC(Bantu Mens Social Club), African America provided a fiercely attractive model of selfhood, combining modernity with defiance of racial power. Their exemplars were black Americans whose sporting or cultural achievements had incorporated implicit or explicit statements of political identity”.

    Black Johannesburg’s historical relationship with Black America’s style and culture reveals the foundations of, and the dynamics underpinning Johannesburg’s-mens-fashion and sub-cultural story. A story that has always been characterised by a creolisation of the two cultures. Take the Swenka’s for example: Johannesburg’s first, documented sub-cultural formation, which is believed to have been around as early as the 1920’s. Swenka’s combined zulu traditional music and dance with Harlem’s renaissance fashions. Out of Sophiatown: black Johannesburg’s legendary cultural hub of the 1940’s and 50’s, emerged Mbaqana a sound which has been described as “marabi and kwela influences combined with big band swing” (American jazz). Pantsula – Johannesburg’s most notable sub-cultural formation was visually characterised by the adoption of American workwear and American sportswear as a form of political resistance.

    It would take the fall of apartheid, a social, political and cultural shift so great, to jolt the outfitters from its historical position in Johannesburg’s sub cultural narrative. The influx of international brands, the establishment of new local brands/boutiques and the new streams through which black people flowed post-apartheid are some of the factors, which led to the outfitting businesses’ cultural decentralisation.

    Outfitters are predominantly family run businesses, historically the mantle passed on from generation to generation.  Mr C Chiba, grandson of Mr R Chiba (founder of R Chiba Tailoring and Outfitters) confessed that today’s generation have chosen to take alternative career paths leaving some outfitters in ageing hands and their future in a precarious position. Young people are generally the drivers of innovation and currently the lack of young people in the outfitting business is another reason for the institutions stagnation in recent years.

    Anthony Smith and Bradley Abrahams are two young Capetonians attempting to re-imagine and in doing so rejuvenate the outfitting institution. Their eponymous store “Smith & Abrahams General Dealers and Outfitters” reflects on the heritage but is an outfitters made in the image of the 21st century. The store is focused on contemporary streetwear, it stocks local brands but also brands from as far off as Japan and like the 20th century outfitters, it is still a space where the dynamics of South African subculture intersect but in this case it is the intersection of dynamics that reflect South Africa’s current sub-cultural movements.

    Outfitters have transcended their economic constitution. The information, images and objects preserved and exhibited at some outfitters qualifies them to be considered Johannesburg’s mens-fashion museums.